The Things that could of been
by YesmyLordCiel
Summary: One shot's of four victors that could of been. Each one has a different story and each one handles their victory differently. Sit down and listen to Shogo Hara, Whyte Roberts and Vera Busattil of District Four and Kazuo Braun of District One views on their victory and how they live their life after the Games.
1. Guts Over Fear- Shogo

_**'An angry man's power will shut you up, trip wires fill this house with tip toe love'**_

 **Shogo Hara- Victor.**

The guns in The Capital were fired that weekend in August, not in anger this time but salute. I watched all the tributes of my Games appeared on the Capital screens one last time, my photo highlighted with a golden band. It was the same all weekend long, they wanted no talk of what they had done, no talk of the bravery they had shown. Some of the most important people came to pay tribute to me but I wanted no tribute for myself. My concern was for those who didn't make it, for the friends I left behind in the soils of their Districts.

Those of my District, who didn't understand what I has been through, may of felt humbled as I mingled with them. However, they just brought back the vivid memory of the dead people that littered the ground, so young that they made me feel humbled. I wanted to pay and not receive tribute. So I walked quietly to the cemetery and sat by my District partners grave.

They wont grow old like I do, age wont weaken them like it will me. As the days go on and the sun rises and sets, I will remember them until the sun finally sets on my life.

I couldn't enjoy the beach anymore, it was now a long thin line of personal anguish. All I see is a long line of human waste stretching as far as the eye can see. Some lay next to gear, gear that is now stained in blood, never to be used again. The gear that belonged to those who died so I could be were I am now. Socks, sewing kits, plasters and rotten fruit now being washed away by the tied. Their dead hands clutching their tokens from home, the last thing they had of their life before the arena.

Then I'd open by eyes and the sickening scene would be replaced with a smiling Kanu as he hunted for new shells to add to his collection.

What haunted me every year I mentored was the extreme youth of the people who fought in the arena. They all had different reasons but each one was fighting for something when they shouldn't. They should be in school learning, laughing and playing with friends. The careers shouldn't be pressured into volunteering and killing, they should be playing games like kick ball not survival of the fittest. It is always the young that suffer when a man with power shows off his strength.

One day, I came back to my room after a pointless wonder round The Capital with Kanu, to find two young tributes, one from five and one from three. They looked to me, almost unbearably young, boys in the over top clothes of The Capital and each cradling his token from home.

"Mr Hara" the one from five said cautiously "we heard from your tributes that you would let them write letters to their family just in case they didn't make it. I know we are not your tributes but we beg you to let us write a letter, our mentors wont let us". I quickly rushed them into my room before handing them a thin piece of paper and a sharp pencil. It was hard to write your last words on one piece but it was the best I could do.

This was the start of what would become a regular stream, I would invite them inside, give them some paper and something to write with then I would put them with others that I would deliver to their devastated families in a few weeks.

Almost always, they wrote to their mothers and they were the worst to face.

 ** _'Run out of excuses for everyone so her I am and I will not run'_**

* * *

 **He was one of my tributes in a story called 'In Your Hands: The Thirtieth Hunger Games' By LadyCordeliaStuart. He died but this is how I would of pictured his life if he had of won. I am doing this for all my tributes.**

 **Hope you enjoyed it, please review and let me know :)**


	2. Vera Busattil

**Vera Busattil- Victor- District 4:**

I shut my eyes tightly as the sun shone through my thin white curtains. I refused to admit that something so bright and warm could even be real any more. Nothing that was good seemed real anymore, everything had a dark side to it and no matter how hard I tried to get past it, I couldn't.

"Vera?" I head Shelle whisper as she the door to my room opened. I shut my eye tighter, hoping she would think I was asleep but she was too smart for that. I felt the end of my bed dip slightly as she sat on the soft silk that covered the queen size bed. I was living the life of a champion now and nothing was out my reach, not that it mattered. _Sorry we put you through hell but here, take all the money you want!_

"Your interview is in two hours time...might as well get it over and done with then you never have to do it again" she said louder now she knew I was sulking. I only grunted slightly as the attempted to wrap the covers round my body more, like that was even possible.

"Look, I cleaned out Whyte's room" she sighed, shifting slightly. My blue eyes flung open as I sat up, never before had I looked at someone with so much hatred.

"You promised that would be my job" I whimpered, tears starting to form in my eyes as I thought of Whyte's death over and over again. Most people found it comical but they wouldn't if they was in my shoes.

"Well, that was two days ago and I don't think you would of been able to handle it" Shelle said bluntly as she sat up. She looked at me and groaned as she dug her hands in her coat pocket. "Don't think I came in here to wipe your tears away hun, welcome to the club, this is what you get when you win. I just wanted to give this to you" She threw a small white envelope on my bed before leaving the room chuntering to herself.

The letter had my name written in lettering that tried to form a fancy 'Vera' but failed miserably. Whyte's handwriting.

I kicked the covers off myself and launched myself at the letter but once I had hold of it, I just held it tightly in my hands, trying not to drip tears on it.

After ten minutes of holding it, I finally forced myself to open it, taking out the baby blue letter inside.

 _Dear, Vera._

 _This is a typical 'if you are reading this then I am dead and you ain't' note, as you may of guessed. Not a clue how I died but that doesn't really matter does it, this is about you._

 _I am sure you saw me die (and part of me hopes you did so I wasn't alone) so knowing you as well as I do, my guess is you ain't taking this well. My bet is spending most of your days locked in you room overthinking everything in life. Am I right or am I right?_ _Bet you hate the fact that you are alive and I am dead too, don't you? Well don't._

 _You shouldn't hate life because you have an amazing one ahead of you. We played a game of survival of the fittest and you won, don't hate yourself for being stronger than I was. You can do so much good for this world, you are smart, strong, kind, loyal and a good friend. You might feel alone now but you won't be forever. You will make a friend soon and maybe something more than a friend, you should name your first kid after me. You will be an amazing mother, you should have lots of kids so you are never alone._

 _Helping people has always made you happy so why don't you help some people back home? You have more money than my family now so you can do anything you want, just don't anger the bosses._

 _Either way, I am running out of space now, just don't waste what you have, you promised me you would be happy after all._

 _From, Whyte._

It didn't take me long to realize that Whyte was right and I quickly knew what I needed to do. All the victors put some money towards the academy back home so I really had no choice in that matter. However, I did enjoy putting money towards the docks and helping the poorer fishermen make better nets and boats. I built houses to replace the old shacks, put more money into the orphanages and became a phycologist as my hobby so I could help Whyte's little brother come out of his shell more.

Whyte was right about the friends to, my popularity gave me a good boost to get more friends. It also didn't take me long to find someone else to love and they didn't love me for my money either.

I even went on to have five children, four boys and one girl. I never wanted children after the Games but I couldn't really help falling pregnant with Whyte and I wasn't going to abort him. I planned to put him up for adoption but as I held his small, warm body in my arms I knew I couldn't do that to him. He grew up with black hair and dark brown eyes so Whyte seemed a good name for him.

Everyone knows that the children of victors tend to get reaped into the Games but due to the amount of children I had they couldn't reap them all without causing a commotion so I got to keep Whyte and my only daughter Lolita alive.

* * *

 **This is** my other character named Vera Busattil. She is from the story 'Over and Over: The 32nd Hunger Games' by LadyCordeliaStuart. She died 13th Place, killed by two Careers.


End file.
